Che succede qui?
by unobtrusivescribe
Summary: What happened here? A young blond man woke up in an Italian apartment with no recollection of anything. How did get there? What did he get himself into this time? You'll just have to click to find out:
1. Non lo so

Okay, so I decided to edit this a bit to make it easier to read:) I will only continue this story if I get reviews. Please enjoy!

**Che succede qui?**

Capitolo 1

He tried to open his eyes but it was painful for some reason. Slowly trying to move wasn't that great of an idea. He fell back as everywhere ached. After a deep sigh, the young man attempted to open his eyes again, but quickly retracting his decision as the brutal sunlight hit them.

Annoyed at how the simple task of getting up was taking a long time, he bit the bullet and sat up while simultaneously opening his eyes.

The room was small, but pleasing to look at. It had a large window, a hand-made looking rug, and a dresser covered with a mess of books and accessories. The door was closed, but a conversation could be barely heard. It sounded as those women were speaking rather fast.

He decided to join them and learn what was going on because for the life of him he could not figure it out. Not worrying about the lack of memories he took a good look at himself in the mirror.

His dirty blond hair was rustled, much like his wrinkled shorts and t-shirt. Stretching he winced. Lifting up his shirt he noticed some bruising on his abdomen. Shrugging off the odd feeling , the young man crept out of the room.

Being sneaky came second-nature to him. So without arousing the other inhabitants of the house, he cleaned himself up in the bathroom. Feeling refreshed he went to talk to the women.

The young man wasn't noticed at first by the three women eagerly talking in the living room. A game was playing on the big screen TV. His presence was only noticed when he joined in their cheering as a goal was scored.

"Ciao (_Hello_)!" said the brunette closest to him.

The other girls giggled and greeted him with a "Buon pomeriggio" (_Good afternoon_).

The blond young man responded with a meek, "Ciao," blushing.

"Finalmente! Penso che tu non mai svegli _(I thought you would never wake up_)," the brown-haired girl said. She had her hair down brushing her bare shoulders because of her spaghetti strap green tank and jean shorts.

"Anch'io, penso che lui dorma come un bambino."(_Also, I think you sleep like a baby_).

"Sì, è guisto (_you're right_)! Tomaso, sei va bene(are you okay)? Tu guardi confuso (_you look confused_)," the blond girl giggled, her ponytail bouncing up and down.

The young man's face turned redder by the minute. He managed to reply, "Che (_What_)?" which lead to a fit of laughter from the three women.

"Mi dispiace (_I'm sorry_)," the dark haired girl said. "Sei molto buffo. Vuoi cibo?" (_You're very funny. Do you want food?_) She asked after realizing he looked uncomfortable.

He nodded and followed the girl into the kitchen.

After the prolonging silence as she hustled around the kitchen, she stopped and turned to the boy leaning on the counter. "Che è il problema?" (_What's the problem?_)

Before answering, he thought deeply, scrunching his forehead and eyebrows. "Non lo so."

"Che è il mio nome?" (_What is my name?_)

"Non lo so." (_I don't know_.)

This made her very worried, so she asked another question, "Che è il tuo nome?" _(What's your name?_)

"Non sono sicura," replied the stressed out young man. (_I'm not sure_)


	2. Che Ora? What now

Grazie per le riposte! _Thanks for the comments! _So I decided to write the English translation after the Italian phrase (Caranath). I got a little carried away last chapter, I didn't realize until I went to post it and had to translate it all, so I just let me know if the Italian gets overwhelming or has errors. Frank should be introduced eventually just not this chapter, most definitely the next one! it is a Hardy boys story after all. Enjoy!

Capitolo 2

After a deep breath, the young woman replied in another language, "Do you remember me?"

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on with me."

The girl laughed, "Well at least you remember something!"

"Yeah, like how to speak, but nothing else."

"You didn't notice that you just changed languages?"

"What? Really?"

"Sì, dall'italiano all'inglese." (_Yes from Italian to English.)_

"Hah, that's weird," the boy let out a strained chuckle, he noticed the change.

"Well, if you really don't remember my name, it's Clara," she said, "and yours is Tomaso."

"How do you know?"

"That's the name you kept repeating when we found you."

"Wait, when you found me?"

"Sì, well," Clara paused, "I'm going to bring you in the other room so you can talk to Livia e Stefania. Va bene?"

She handed him a bag of sweet potato chips and a drink before leaving the kitchen. Joe took a deep breath. This was a lot to take in. He had an inkling that something bad had happened to him. Another thing that did not sit well with him was this name. Tomaso. Strange, he knew it meant Thomas in English, but it just didn't feel right. Not wanting the girls to worry he made his way back into the living room.

"Ciao Tomaso, sono Livia (_I'm Livia_)," said the blond headed girl with a stylish one-shoulder shirt and pink shorts.

"I'm Stefania," the brunette said as she stood up and lead him to an empty chair.

The silence was deafening and the young man was getting restless and filled with uncertainty. He began, "Che succede?" (_What happened_?) hoping he said the right thing, for some reason the words did not seem too strange.

The girls looked at one another, trying to decide who should tell the story. Finally, Clara cleared her throat and started the story, "Well, we don't know."

Before the young man got his two cents in, Stefania added, "But we will tell you what we do know. You see we were on morning jog and we, come si dice passo falso?"

"We, I mean, I tripped over you, so we decided to bring you back here with us," Livia jumped in.

"Sì, perchè tu non guardi molto bene e noi vogliamo auitareti. (_because you didn't look very good and we wanted to help you.)_ Oops, I'm sorry, I'll try to choose one language. Anyways you had no license or any identification on you, so we decided to take care of you," Clara answered.

"Okay…" the boy looked at them skeptically.

"We were going to go call the police, but didn't want to leave you there. It's not that great of a neighborhood."

"Yeah, so we carried you to our apartment. It wasn't too far away."

"You woke up barely and kept saying 'Tomaso', so we figured that we could just set you back on your feet."

"Thanks?"

"No problem, you seemed really lost and confused. You have quite a nasty bump on the back of your head," Livia added, while "Tomaso" winced as he touched a soft spot on the back of his head. That's why it had ached a little bit, he deduced.

"Come un piccolo cane (_Like a little dog)_." At this statement the room burst into laughter.

"You know nothing about me or where I can from?"

"Nope."

"Nessuno, mi dispiace Tomaso."

"È va bene. (_it's okay_). Now what should I do?" the young man asked.

"For starters, what do you know and/or remember?"

"Nothing, really, I get brief visions and flashes, but nothing definite."

"Oh," the girls said in unison.

"Should I go to the police? The embassy?"

"I guess so."

"Che lui andrà qui? È un americano?" (_Why would he go there? Is he an American?)_

"Sì, lui ovviamente non è un l'italiano."

"Perchè no?"

"Perchè no? Perchè assomiglia al straniero! Le pelle e I capelli non sono caratteristici degli italiani." (_Why not? Because he looks like a foreigner! The skin and hair aren't characteristics of the Italians.) _

"Scusi," Tomaso interrupted. "Can you show me where you found me? Maybe that will help me."

"Sì, è un buon'idea!" said Livia and turned to the girls, "Vai, vai!"

They all got up and followed the eager young woman outside after putting some shoes on and locking the door.

"Wow it's really nice out."

"Sì esso sempre bellissima!" (_ it's always beautiful!)_

"Stefania, please use English, you're confusing the poor boy."

"Oh-kay," she said causing the others to smile.

"It was just down here a little bit," Clara motioned.

Livia corrected her, "It was around the corner. I didn't see you, honest!"

"Livia, it's okay! As long as you're not the one who beat me up it's fine!" Tomaso replied.

"Oh, haha lui è un uomo buffo (funny man)."

"I try," he said and then ran into Clara. She had frozen right before the corner, holding her arm out blocking Stefania.

"Che è la problema?" Stefania inquired, but was shushed by Clara. She inched closer to the edge of the building.

"What is it?"

"Silenzio e ascolta." From that moment on the four young adults didn't move. At first nothing could be heard, but then there was a loud noise. (_Silence and listen_)

Clara braved it and took a peak. A large man had just thrown a garbage can against a wall, leaving its contents scattered across the road. He was yelling at another man that she could barely make out. Afraid they could see her, she faced the group. "Vai!" (Go)

"Che?"

"A big man throwed a garbage can by another man. He look, a…. molto arrabiato."

"He looked what?" the young man asked.

"Scared, no angry, that's what it is, angry," Livia responded.

"About what?"

"Non lo so Tomaso, ma noi dobbiamo lasciare ora!" ( _I don't know, but we must leave now_!)

"Perchè?" (_Why_)

"He didn't see you, did he?"

"No, ma…"

"Aspetta (_wait_)," Stefania assured her friend, "Magari I uomini lasceranno nei alcuni minuti, e se non lasciano, poi noi lasceremo, va bene." (_Maybe the men will leave in a few minutes, and if they don't leave, then we will leave, okay_).

Clara, Tomaso e Livia nodded their heads. They remained quiet, against the wall, listening closely.

Feeling sure they had left, Clara took a second look. She was not prepared to see the larger man punch the other man, so she gasped. The man stopped what he was doing and looked around. Unsure if he had seen her, Clara turned around and ran. All four of them took off as fast as they could to the apartment, fearing for their lives.

**Author's note:** Please review, then i'll post another chapter. I may not end up till after my birthday. It's a pretty busy week to say the least. Sorry, there's a lot of Italian, i didn't notice because i translated as I went,hopefully it wasn't distracting (you'll let me know if it is, right?). I hope you enjoyed it:)


	3. A Call

FYI this chapter is very pensive, a lot less dialogue. It is a different approach, but it goes through trains of thought that lead to important conversations (in English). Thank you for the reviews, especially for noticing my slip up. I shall not happen again. I cross my 3. I hope the story comes to exceed your expectations!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Clan.

Capitolo 3

Something must be wrong. That is the only logical explanation that his brother, Joe Hardy had not been in touch with him. Yes, there was a small falling out about the most frivolous of things, but he did not deserve to be gutted out of his younger brother's life.

I was so proud of him choosing to study abroad for his first year of college. It was something that I wanted to do, but I put it on the back burner for the perfect semester. Joe was absolutely ecstatic to be in Italy, the country of young love he called it. Mr. Casanova chose to study Italian because it was completely different and believed he would even attract more women.

Honestly, I laughed at his train of thought. My parents had no problem with that or him requesting to stay there for the summer because he got offered a once in-a-life-time opportunity to work. So it was just surprising that he would be across the ocean instead of a few hours away. I got thrown off that contacting him was a task inside itself. There was the time difference, our different availabilities, and inconstant way to communicate.

I thoroughly enjoyed my first year in college and desired Joe to have the same enthralling experience. A rift began forming when I was offended that he didn't take into consideration what I was planning on doing during the summer. I wanted to come home and spend time with him and the family, work a few cases, and go for a local internship.

Only after he dropped the bomb of his choice to continue residing in Italy for the duration of the summer break, I blew a fuse. At that point, he got funding for it and our parents' okay, so it was definitely happening. As I recalled, it was only a suggestion when he had last talked to me about the prospect of working in Europe over the summer.

I had called him a few things like an inconsiderate brother, which dropped communication right away. For a while we avoided each other, and then we each got wrapped up in our own lives, so calling attempts were fewer as the weeks progressed. The line was blurred between reality and excuses for the problems we had with frequently, if at all, communicating.

Bitter, lonely, and remorseful I felt when I unpacked my suitcase when I returned home in the summer. I had gotten out a week later than Joe. In that week he had already moved and began his researching job in Italy. Honestly, I knew nothing much about it and Joe never told me anything. My parents decided this was a brotherly quarrel that they were not going to get involved in.

I was left to commute to my internship at a local law firm. My dad and he were old friends. It helped that me and my brother had a growing reputation for putting criminals in their place. While I did mundane office work, my brother was gallivanting around another country doing who knows what.

Clarification- Joe and I did speak on occasion. It was simple stuff such as the weather, sports, our parents, high school friends, and cases we ran into. Nothing too personal was shared, which seemed quite out of place. That became our regular conversation leading to sudden recollection of a previous engagement or the requirement to return to our studies.

I found it odd that I had heard nothing in three weeks. We would speak every week at least once. Alarm bells did go off in the second week, but I thought maybe we kept missing one another and he was overwhelmed. As Wednesday had come and gone, Thursday I began drilling my parents for a little more information on my brother's stay in Italy.

Coming down early for breakfast, I chose to first interrogate my mother. "Mom, where's the mugs?"

"Oh, They're still in top rack of dishwasher, haven't put them away yet," she replied, seeming surprised at her elder son's arrival. He dried it out and poured coffee in it before relaxing at the counter.

"Anything from him today?" I went to the point without hesitation; there are times to not beat around the bush.

"Nothing," saying this made her withdrawal more, as though she was worried about her younger son.

It was acceptable to not reach him, but at least keep in touch with mom. She doesn't need to worry. Determined to call in some accounts of his current behavior, I chose to dig for more information. It would need to be in the correct tone so that she would not clam up. "He's probably just busy, being over worked as a young useful hand like I am labeled at the firm."

"Yes, but usually he has the decency to call me or send some type of identification that he is alive and well. So far there has been nothing," she paused and looked up from the sizzling scrambled eggs, "Frank that frightens me."

In her eyes all that could be seen was terror. Fear of situations that could have occurred played out in their minds. Deeply concentrating in their own worries, neither of us heard the entrance of my father. He was like the lion stalking the gazelle, yet he was observing his family in order to help them, not eat them.

"Honey, I'm sure Joe is fine. He is a nineteen year old young man. He can take care of himself on occasion. Once we find out the reason for neglecting the use of a telephone you can lecture him about chasing Italian women, learning how to use technology, and not to over extend himself with work obligations," my father advised his wife and returned the smile she gave him. "Now let me talk to Frank and you can finish breakfast without interruption."

The older version of myself gently placed an arm around my shoulders, steering me towards his office. As soon as I sat down and he closed the door I asked, "So dad what is it?"

"Well," he began as he made his way to the desk and grabbed a seat. "You're not the only one worried about finding your brother's inexplicable reasons for not keeping touch."

Breathing a sigh of relief I took a good look at my father. He looked extremely aged with bags under his eyes. The rest of his features mirrored deep concern. We each had an understanding for the trouble Joe was bound to get into by doing the most trivial things. Maybe that is why I was terrified of my brother living without me in another country. My overprotective gene was kicking in and it was saying something was amiss.

The silence was not uncomfortable before my dad spoke again. We were each getting together our own thoughts. "Son, this week I have been doing a bit more research on what your brother had signed up for. Never mind what we made you believe, he only disclosed the important details of opportunity to your mother and I. Honestly, we were hoping he would share more with you, so we pushed you two back together."

"Thanks dad. I do appreciate it. I think I was also a bit upset with myself that I didn't even think Joe would want to do anything else than hang with me during the summer since lately we hadn't spent that much time with one another."

"I couldn't read Joe's mind, but I think he figured you would have a job planned for the summer out since you are going to be a junior and he didn't want to mess up your plan of action for the future." This got a chuckle from both of us. Joe had nicknamed it PAFF (Plan of Action For the Future) when we he saw it written on one of my papers one day.

"Yeah I guess if I look back now, the only logical thing to have done would have been to talk to each other about our feelings, I guess," I summarized.

"Well, now you know. It's hard thing to adjust being separated like you two were because you and your brother were always used to one another's companionship. I know it may have felt like you were missing a part of you. Frank, I am proud of both of you, especially the way you have taken charge of your lives. I'll stop the lecture, but I want you to know, it's not easy sharing feelings over the phone. You read the other's mind within seconds of a situation. The brotherly relationship is unique. In the future use that to your advantage." Ending his long speil, my dad leaned back in his chair and looked out the office window.

"Thanks dad that means a lot," I smiled and continued. "So what do you know about Joe?"

Laughing at his older son's dismissal of describing feelings about his brother's feelings without him nearby had touched a soft spot. Now he was more determined than ever to get a hold of him. "The program was a direct individual study with a professor well known for criminology. You know that he wanted to study criminology, but they school only had minor in law and society, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, he would be working one on one for most of the summer with this professor. Two months and then he'd come home in July," he paused, letting the new information sink in. "Yesterday I was quite anxious about Joe not calling or anything, so I got into contact with people that I could and finally left a message for someone in English. They should be returning my call soon. In their message it said they would return all calls by 5:30/6 am our time because it would be right before their lunch."

"Great! What did the people say that you did talk to? What else do you know about the program?"

"The person I got into contact with was his English advisor, who should call back. A woman gave me the general information that you can find online." My dad handed me some more papers concerning the various programs with the university.

My mom took that moment to knock on the door to announce breakfast was ready. My father and I held light conversation topics. We kind of booked it to the office to finish, after clearing our plates. As I continued overlooking the papers, the phone in the office blared.

He answered it and talked for a little bit. I noticed his face was growing graver by the minute. Finally he turned completely around so I couldn't gage his expressions. I read more into the program that apparently Joe signed up for. I took out a pen to make some notes and questions to ask my dad.

I was torn from my focus when my father slammed the phone down. Waiting for him to calm down I glanced over my notes. Then I looked up at the older version of myself who was angrily glaring at the computer.

"What is it?"

He let out a deep breath and told me as calmly as he could, "They do not have a Joseph Hardy on any records. He was never enrolled nor sent in an application to that program. So we have no idea where he is or what could have happened to him."


	4. La Festa

Okay, sorry for the delay in updating. This chapter was extremely challenging to write (i'm blaming all the dialogue). At least I already have Chapter 5 and most of 6 done, so those will be out in the next few days. Thank you so much to my friend who read it over and the reviews of Maddi Paige, zenfrodo, leyapearl and Caranath! Per favore, Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Hardy boys.

Capitolo 4

Surprisingly I was not that terrified running for my life. A smile actually began to creep across my face as we made it in a timely matter back into the apartment. I really took a good look around their humble abode. Huh, those words just seemed to flow, at least some part of my brain is working. Anyways, this place seemed to gather every unique item they have ever come across. Bookshelves and counters were covered with various trinkets.

The girls sprawled out on the furniture panting. I chose to make light of the situation, "Well that was fun, wasn't it?"

In reply I received a rude gesture, something in the language of panting (I think shut up), and a few choice words in Italian. I was amazed at myself that I could know another language. It didn't seem like me. I'm not the scholarly one, some dark-haired kid was.

"Water. Now," Stefania directed me as I was just standing there watching the girls catch their breath. I went into the kitchen and eventually found some cups and some water. I asked if the wanted ice and they each answered me with an irritated "NO!" I just brought warm glasses to them, while giving a cold drink to myself.

"Magari ritorneremo domani? Poi conosceremo di più di lui e questo uomo non sarà qui." _(Maybe tomorrow we'll return? Then we will know more about him and that man won't be there)_ I heard.

"Sì, d'accordo. Oggi noi possiamo rilassare e impariamo di più di lui. Anch'io devo andare il lavoro a presto. Ho il turno della notte," replied Stefania. (_I agree. Today we can relax and learn more about him. Also, I must go to work soon. I have the night shift_). I only understood some of what she said, so I gave her a half-hearted grin and took a seat.

The blond, Livia, I think, looked at me. She asked, "Tomaso, you remember any-fing?

I closed my eyes and really allowed my mind to go to work to make sense of the flashes I've had. "Well," I began, a little uneasy, "I keep getting flashes of this brown-haired guy. Maybe he's my best friend or something?"

"Maybe," Clara agreed, "Nothing else?"

"No."

"È va bene. _(it's okay)._ We are thinking to go to that place tomorrow. Stefania have work tonight and we not go there at night," Livia said.

I smiled and asked, "What are we going to do tonight?"

Clara responded, "Relax. You have a injury. It not bleed now, but still bad."

It was a little sore, "Do you have any medicine?"

"Sì," Livia responded and jumped up. A few seconds later she ran in the room with a bottle and handed me some pills. I downed them with my water and gave her a "Grazie".

Stefania stood up and said, "Cambio I miei vestiti, ciao." (_I'm going to change my clothes, bye_).Then, hastily left the room.

Silence had crept up and invade the comfortable living space. Neither of us knew what to say, so twiddled our thumbs and looked around the room. Livia finally gave up and flipped on the TV. She was rapidly flying through the channels and then angrily threw down the remote.

"Che è il problema?" Clara asked.

"Ho bisogno di trovare il partido di calcio. Non abbiamo finito." (I need to find the soccer game. We didn't finish it.)

"Oh, dai me," (give it to me) Clara said and quickly found the sports channel that was giving highlights on it. She smiled, satisfied that her passionate roommate was content. Then her glance came over to me and she looked me straight in in eyes. "Tomaso, have you questions?"

I paused and asked, "Clara, why did you decide to help me. I don't really get it. Wouldn't most people just leave me there?"

Clara smiled and set her cup down, "Sì d'accordo. (I agree). Many people may leave you, ma (_but_) I saw you are American and wanted to help. You look very sad and bad in that, uhhh ummm, in the alley. We didn't know if the people who did that to you would come back and didn't want to be hurt more. You look very young."

"Thank you so much. I think I was just surprised to be saved by three devastatingly lovely young women".

Clara blushed, while Livia rolled her eyes and gave out a huff. "Oh you are quite the charmer."

"NO!" Livia screeches and throws the remote down again.

Clara asks, "Che?" _(What?)_

"Hanno perduto questo gol! Era così vicino!" (_They missed that goal! It was this close_!) Livia excitedly responds, gesturing with her hands.

"Really? Who's playing?" I wondered.

"Oh, two big Italian, um, come si dice?"

Clara filled in, "rivals."

"Sì, they big rivals!"

"Who do you root for?"

"Team blue."

"Are they any good?"

"Yeah, they my favorite team."

Clara piped in, "Livia, you are forgetting the vowels! Your sentences do not make sense."

"E?" (And?- like Soooo what?)

"Uh, you are a lost cause!"

"Grazie!" Livia responded before stalking off to the kitchen.

"She is a drama queen," Clara told me as she retrieved the remote and turned the TV off.

"Clara," I began and she gave me a "mmhmm". "How do you know English so well?"

"Well, I'm studying it at a higher level at school. Most Italians only know the basics they learned in middle school."

"Wow, what made you choose that career path?"

"Well, I like languages. They come naturally to me. Math e scienza _(science)_ do not."

"You speak it very well, do you want to go to go somewhere else to teach or use it?"

"I don't know. I can either teach it here or teach abroad. I would like to stay in Italy. I like it here."

"I agree this country is absolutely beautiful. I like the way the cities are set up. Completely different atmosphere than the United States."

"Yes, it definitely is."

"So, Clara, do you find it hard to learn another language?"

"No, I enjoy it. They all share some basic sentence parts, only the structure is different."

"Wait, do you know more than just English?"

"Does she know more, HAH!" Livia laughed as she reentered the room with a smoothie and took up residence on the couch.

"Wait… what?" I asked, confused, there was obviously some sort of inside joke.

"Well, she knows three. Francese e spagnolo. (French and Spanish)," Livia continued, smiling at the embarrassment it was causing her friend.

"That's amazing!"

"Yeah, I guess so. I learned them in school. Some family lives in Spain and I see them every summer, so I know the language pretty well."

"I can't believe you can keep shoving more languages into your brain. Isn't it extremely hard to speak it though? Being able to keep up with the locals?"

"Yes, it is really difficult learn another language without constantly using it. The key is to immerse you in it."

"Do you plan on immersing yourself in an Rnglish- speaking country, like the US?"

"Sì, that's all she talks of sometimes."

"Livia, I do not."

"Do too, we'll ask Stefania later."

Clara rolled her eyes and turned to me, "Next semester I signed up for an abroad program."

"That's exciting! Where at?"

"New York, I think."

"Wait, If you're going to JFK, beware, it takes plenty of time to go through security and get your bags. It is an extremely busy airport!"

"Wow, how do you know that?"

"I go there a lot, traveling with my family."

"That's interesting. Maybe you took that airport when you came over here?"

"Yeah, probably! Whoop, whoop, I'm remembering!" I shouted and jumped up from the couch, simultaneously knicking my shin on the coffee table and let out a howl of colorful language. Livia giggled, while Clara ordered me to sit down and she ran out of the room.

"Here, put foot on table," she handed me an ice pack and situated pillowed around me to make me comfortable.

"You're a maid," Livia told Clara, who blatantly disagreed and they went into a fast discussion in Italian. I paid more attention to my aching leg and laid back. Eventually they stopped and looked at me.

Clara spoke first, "I'm sorry you had to see that. She doesn't think before she thinks. It's a serious problem."

"One that you always remind me of,"Livia whined.

"Yes we most certainly do," Clara said as she smiled.

Choosing to not be in the middle of another argument I changed the subject, "Livia, I feel like I know a lot about Clara, but not you."

She cleared her throat, then asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Well, what are you studying?"

"Fashion."

"That's fascinating, why?"

"I like it."

"Oh, really. You do look very trendy."

"Thanks."

Clara barely surpressed a giggle that caught my attention, I asked, "what is it?"

"It's just her one-worded answers. It's just comical."

"Oh," I responded, blushing a bit at feeling foolish. "So how did you become roommates? You seem to be study completely opposing subjects."

Livia cleared her throat and began, "I answered add that was looking for a girl to room with them."

"Yep, that's about it."

"Oh, well, how does Stefanie fit in here?"

"Well, she's working her way through Culinary School. Her job now is just helping a family friend with catering over the summer. She wants to try everything."

"No way! Does she cook a lot?"

"No, not much."

"Definitely, a no," Livia said.

"Oh man, but that's still pretty cool. I have a friend that loves food, he dreams of becoming a professional chef. He's a pretty big eater."

"What's his name?"

"Uhhhhh, well, you see, I don't know. I just get flashes of his laughter and us always poking fun at his eating habits."

"Oh, well, maybe if we keep talking about stuff you will remember more?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea!"

Ready to ask more about them living in Italy, I was rudely interrupted by a booming voice from the doorway.

"Che succede? Non ci sono una risposta tutto il giorno. Vengo prenderevi alla festa. È niente! Niente! Perchè?" _(What happened? No responses all day. I come to take you all to the party. Nothing, nothing! Why?) _a man's voice rings and comes closer to the living room. It continues as a body enters the room. "Alo? Alo? Dove tu? Livia? Chi è?" _(Hello, hello? Where are you? Who is that_?) The man finishes, pointing a finger at me. I sputter some nonsense and look at the girls for help.

Livia saves me by jumping up and embracing the animated man. Then turns to me and says, "Giovanni, this is Tomaso. Tomaso, my boyfriend, Giovanni."

I stand up, forgetting my throbbing shin and shake his hand. The couple sits on the couch and gets into a quick conversation. Unsure of what was going on, I glanced at Clara who just smiled as I sat down.

"Che è il problema?" Stefania shouts as she enters the room dressed for work.

"Niente," Giovanni states. Stefania glances around the room, resting her questioning eyes at me for a few seconds longer than everyone else.

Directed at Giovanni, Stefania asks, "Perchè sei qui?" (why are you here?)

"Prendovi alla festa." _(Take you to the party)._

"Oh, mi dispiace. Noi domenticamo _(We forgot)_, oggi siamo molto occupato con lui _(we've been very busy with him today)_ ," she responds and nods towards me. I look back at Giovanni, to see his response. I was just waiting for him to interrogate me, why is some random foreigner hanging out with his girlfriend and her roommates. I'm going to look so stupid.

"Capisco, Livia ha detto che trovate lui." _(I understand, Livia told me that you found him)_

"Sì," Stefania was cut off before she could continue.

"Non capisco perchè non avete lasciato lui. Lui vede va bene. Perchè lui non lasciava?" _(I don't understand why you didn't leave him. He looks okay. Why hasn't he left?)_

"Giovanni, ferma! _(stop)_Lui non ricorda nessuno.(_He doesn't remember anything)._ Noi aiutiamo ancora può ricordare! (_We are helping him until he can remember_) " Livia said taking his arms off of her and getting off the couch. She squished herself next to Clara and crosed her hands over her chest, looking extremely irritated.

"Scusi me," Giovanni said and turned to me, "I sorry, but I protect my girl."

"It's fine man, I understand," I quickly responded, understanding that this was one chance and was never going to happen again. "So what's this festa you keep talking about?"

Everyone laughed, and I could feel my face getting redder by the minute.

Clara spoke first, "It's a party. One of our friends invited us over tonight."

I understood. They wanted to go, but didn't want to leave me alone. It could be that I am a foreigner, need to be taken care of or that they're worried whoever did this to me will find me. So I jumped in before they could say another word, "You guys have to go! Giovanni sounds like he's been waiting all day for it!"

Giovanni grinned and gave me a nod, but Livia spoke first. "Tomaso, you can come."

"Really?" I asked, unsure, which was met with "sì"s and nods.

Livia pointed out, "If he comes, he need clothes."

"Yes," Clara said.

"Oh!" Stefania said as said sped out of the room.

Livia addressed her boyfriend, "Can he use yours? We don't have time for the store."

"Sì, vai il mio appartamento ora! Avete comprare alcuno vino per stasera."

"Ma, no, Clara e io vestiamo primo, poi noi andiamo," Livia stated.

"Va bene," Giovanni agreed. Livia took Clara to go change, leaving me awkwardly sitting in the living me with her suspicious boyfriend.

He broke the silence first, "Do you know Italian?"

"Yes, I know some. It is hard to understand when you speak it fast," I replied.

"Oh," Giovanni replied and paused, looking unsure of what else to talk about. He was saved as Stefania rushed in.

"Ciao, Tomaso, Giovanni. Ho lavoro, gli vedo stasera! (I have work, see you this evening)" she said as she grabbed a water bottle and sprinted out the door.

We both laughed at the frantic girl and Giovanni grabbed the TV remote and began to flip through the channels. This is how the girls found us when they were finally ready. Livia looked significantly taller and lean with her extremely tall heels and body hugging dress. Clara took my breath away with her now wavy hair, flower tucked behind her ear, and beautiful outfit.

Giovanni and I both stood up and walked with the girls out of the apartment. Going to his apartment and changing didn't take that long. What took time was finding the perfect drink to take. Apparently it was a tradition for them to bring a bottle to the gathering, while the host would take care of the food.

I just went with it and was glad we finally left the busy streets. The apartment complex was a decent size, but I wasn't so sure how many people it would be able to hold. I could hear the music and the commotion of a good amount of people.

Inside looked packed from what I could see when the host opened the door. He was very excited, hugging the girls and Giovanni. He stopped and gave me a once over before asking, "Chi è?"

"Marco, questo è Tomaso," Clara says and I approach him with a grin and a hand to shake. After a firm shake, Marco returns the smile and invites me in. He takes me along as his little pet, introducing me to all of his friends while giving me a tour of the house. I just smile and wave. First of all, I barely knew what anyone is saying. I was feeling a bit closterphobic in the apartment. My head was throbbing a little bit. The wine shoved on me wasn't helping my case.

Eventually, I sneaked around the amazingly increasing number of people, and took up residence on the terrace. It was a spectacular view into the nightlife of the town. The lights of the night captured the history and grand style of the various buildings surrounding the square.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a tap on my shoulder. The lovely young woman with curly brown hair smiled and said "Ciao". I nodded and grinned. She sat down next to me and introduced herself, "Maria."

"Tomaso," I said, shaking her outstretched hand.

"Sei un americano?" Maria asked. I nodded my head and she continued, "Parli l'italiano?"

"Un po'," I replied, suppressing a laugh at the dawn of comprehension on her face.

"Oh, you look like an American I met."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued. "Where did you meet him?"

"At school. He was studying abroad for his first year of college. Also, you look a lot like him."

"Wow your English is really good," I commented, causing her to blush. "How much do I look like him?"

"He had blue eyes and muscles like you. You have darker blond hair. I worked with him in a program that helped international students assimilate to the Italian culture. È un proggetto."

"Sounds interesting," I replied, eager to learn more about her and this guy. "Have you talked to this guy lately?"

"No, you see, I kind of turned him down in a big way, so I kind of avoided him."

"Oh, I get it. You said I looked like him, right?"

"Yes," she replied giving me a weird look at my obsession with this guy.

"How can you be sure I'm not him?"

"Well, it's dark out and there's barely any lights up here. If you were, I'm sure you'd be running out on me, rather than listening to me."

"Oh," I said.

"Tomaso!" screeched a voice from the doorway. I looked up to see a concerned Clara. "Come on, let's go!"

I told I'll be right there and turned to Maria, "Can I have your number?"

Surprisingly enough, she scribbled some numbers on a napkin and gave it to me, saying "Ciao Tomaso!"

I was grinned from ear to ear as pushed past the people and finally made it outside to Livia and Giovanni who were locked in a tight embrace. As we approached the couple they broke apart and we followed them into the night.

**A/N**: Sorry it was really long! Please review:)


	5. Getting There

BTW it's Frank's POV now. Thank you for the review Caranath! Holy cow, I see all you who have read it, can you pretty please leave a review. Feedback is good. cCorrection, feedback is fantastic:) I don't own the HBs. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Capitolo 5

"What?" was the first thing that came out of my mouth before I finished processing the information and supplied logic to the thoughts racing through his mind. A ridiculous amount of thoughts and questions raced through my head. Where could he be? Is he okay? No, sure he's fine. It's Joe. OMG it's JOE! Of course he's not okay, he attracts trouble like no other! Why does this have to happen, always to us, correction to him. God, can't criminals just leave us alone for once!

"Frank!" my father's stern voice tore me from my thoughts. It must have been out of it more a few minutes to get that tone and stare from him. I looked down, only to realize that I had been slowly crunching the papers I had just been looking over.

"Yeah, sorry dad," I quietly said. Trying to compose myself I asked, "So what are we going to do?"

"First you need to decompress. I can see your mind twirling and internalizing the information just sitting here. Talk to me. Then we will be able to talk like rational adults, not like some kid lashing out in anger at their parents telling them about Santa Claus," he said smoothly. He had obviously calmed down after the initial shock of realizing Joe is lost in another country without either of us on hand. I chuckled at my dad's comparison.

"Come on dad, my reaction wasn't half as bad as Joe's."

"The way I remember it was that you had your suspicions about the jolly good man. So, you chose to set up death traps throughout the house to catch Santa Claus. You wanted to interrogate him and had reasoned catching him in the act was the only way for him to reply to the questions you had mailed him, since he had never answered," my dad told me and started to laugh. "When you realized what was happening you simultaneously woke up your brother, by accident and he ran down the stairs past your mother. Joe came into the living room at the same time you pulled off my suit. He was devastated, crying his eyes out, while you my dear boy, were livid. Might I add that it was about three in the morning because I thought you two had finally gone to sleep."

"Oh, yeah. I did stomp around a bit and say a few choice words at you. Can you blame me dad?"

"Yes I can. Don't even try you were young, blah, blah, blah. So back on track, you shouldn't let things simmer or you will explode. Joe let it simmer over night and went crazy in the morning. Just tell what you're thinking, right now."

He was right, though I was a little offended at being compared to a child. I didn't need to let my emotions get the best of me. I had to keep it together. I'll go to the gym later or something. "Well," I began, toying with the pen on the desk and looking at the program sheets, "I was mulling over the idea that this always seems to happen to us, especially Joe, so why can't criminals just leave us alone for once! I mean come on dad, who goes to another country for an entire school year and only goes missing in the summer?"

"I can see where you are coming from. I am always bombarded with those terrifying thoughts every time either one of you gets into a pickle. I am even more so worried now because you two are adults and away from home, which makes you more vulnerable. Frank, I try to look at it this way: forget about the past, look at the present and future. We need to focus on finding him, once that is accomplished allow your over protective instinct kick in!"

I smiled at him, while my mind reeled. The possibilities are infinite. There is only so much we can do from home. "Dad…., how can we really learn that much from here? Making phone calls? I don't think that'll get us that far in the investigation."

"Well no, we wouldn't get too far at all, so we will definitely be going to Italy to get to the bottom of this."

"Sweet!" I was excited to find my brother and to go there, but then thought of a potentially massive road block. "Dad, how will we be able to communicate? Most of the Italian may know some English, but we do not know any Italian. On top of that why would they open up to foreigners? We'll stick out like sore thumbs."

"Actually I've been contemplating the same thing. Could we possibly contact the Pritos? Maybe they have family there we can get into contact with or something?"

"That sounds perfect! I'll go call him now!" I told my dad as I flipped my phone out and ran out of the office, nearly running over my mom. It rang a few times, but I sat contently on the front porch continuing to redial. Finally, a groggy voice answered, "Bro, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Um, between six and seven I think, why?"

"It's way too early."

"Tony, don't you have work?"

"Actually, I got my dad to allow me take the later, non-morning shifts this summer," my friend retorted.

"Oh, well sorry to wake you up but there's been a family emergency."

Sounding more awake he replied, "What happened?"

"Joe's missing."

"Isn't he still in Italy?"

"Yeah, you see that's the problem. None of us has heard from him in the last few weeks. I thought he was giving me the cold shoulder, but he hasn't even contacted my mother. My dad talked to someone at the program he was at, but they said they have no record of him. So that means we're going to Italy," I rushed to answer. I was relieved to get it off my mind.

"That's ridiculous! Your dad had even sent the program information to my father, who said that it's a decent program. How could this have happened?" he paused, but continued before I could interject, "Why did you call me?"

"Well, my dad and I were wondering where your family was in Italy."

"Oh, well they actually live in Sicilia, but they do have an apartment in Florence. Don't you remember me telling you this before?"

"No, it must have been Joe you were telling."

"Oh, right. Anyways I think they are on vacation right now. So I don't think they could help you."

"Oh, okay then," I replied, slightly dismayed that the brilliant idea was lost. Cost to fly there was already going to be quite a large sum, a local translator would be too much.

Then Tony said, "Frank hold on a minute." I could hear him put down the phone and walk away. I sat there twiddling my thumbs and checking out the neighborhood at the break of dawn. It was pretty barren. Some guy with eighties sweatband was jogging, trying to desperately avoid the sprinklers, but stay on the sidewalk.

I guess I let my laugh out because it was met with a question from the other end of the phone, "Man what's so funny?"

"Oh nothing, just a neighbor. What's up?"

"Well, I just ran into my dad before he left. I told him what happened. He was trying to think of someone he might know over there to contact, but I suggested that I just go with you. And he agreed! I will be your personal Italian guide."

"No way, really?"

"Really."

"That's absolutely fantastic! Tell your dad thanks a million! Are you sure you can?"

"Yeah, I'm just taking a computer course that's basically online, class attendance isn't mandatory. And my macroeconomics is online. I'm good to go whenever you're ready!"

"Okay, hold on, let me tell my dad!" I said as I went into the house, rushing over to my father's study. He was sitting there glaring at the computer screen, searching for something. "Dad!"

"Yes," he said, turning around, giving me a once over.

"Tony can come with us to help us out with the Italian," I paused to catch my breath and saw the confused look on his face. "Oh, his family has a house in Florence, but they are currently on vacation."

My dad asked, "Isn't Tony taking some classes? How will we get into that apartment?"

"His classes are online and I think Tony is handling that."

A grinned formed on his face as he replied, "That's great, I'll look for another ticket! Tell him to come over ASAP and we can begin forming a plan."

"Yes sir!" I said, and walked out to finish my conversation with Tony. "Okay, so why don't you get everything ready, don't forget your passport, and come on over. We'll start to plan it all out."

"Sounds like a plan man! See you soon," Tony said and hung up.

My father and I got comfortable in the office after I relayed to my boss that I would not be attending my internship do to a serious family matter. Together we planned our flights and began going over all the information that Joe had given us before we had lost contact. Tony came bursting in with passport and bags in hand about a half-hour later.

"Okay boys, here's the plan," my dad faced Tony and I who were seated in the chairs opposite his desk. "We can get a flight out of here this afternoon. It'll be long flight, so prepare yourself. And, Frank your mother is coming. Don't worry she is going to stay with Tony's family, I called them earlier while you were talking to your boss."

"She wants a family vacation after we find Joe?"

"Pretty much and doesn't want to stay at home alone for who knows how long. I know, consider it a moment of weakness on my behalf, but grill me about it later. Now, you and I are going to pack. Tony, I want you to start researching and can you translate some of these words on the list for me."

That was that. My dad and I quickly packed our suitcases. He called all the contacts he knew and collected information about Joe's past academic year. Tony connected to his family, who told us we could most definitely stay at their place in Florence. We'd have to grab the key from their neighbor who was keeping an eye on it. His aunt was going to track her down.

My mission was to figure out the contacts he had made while he was in Italy. So I focused on his profile and comments with friends. Nothing seemed too suspicious, except one was from someone named Dan who was anxious about Joe not returning his messages and not seeing him lately. He kept asking if he was okay and why he dropped off the face of the planet.

I forwarded him a message, asking him to contact me because I needed help finding Joe. Now I just needed to wait and get a better look at other people he has been frequently conversing with online. Then I can already have a little background knowledge if I run into them or their names.

Eventually, my mother called us boys down for an early lunch. She wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to eat and digest before leaving for the airport. It was an international flight and three hours is the recommended time to arrive before take-off. It was nice to have her keeping us in check. When work comes into the picture, we tend to forget about everything else, like eating for instance.

I constantly checked for a response from Dan during lunch, packing the car, stopping at the Pizzeria, unloading the bags, and in line at security. Finally, my dad insisted that I turned it off because it was already suspicious purchasing last minute flights. I waited to continue until we were cleared and waiting in the lounge.

The four of us did not even bother with small talk and got lost in our own thoughts. I really don't believe my mom was actually following that romance novel she was holding or that Tony was paying attention to the magazine he was holding. My father got lost in his notes, while I observed the people of the airport and let my mind wander to my brother.

Waiting around for our sections to be called was slow. I ended up sitting by little kids. All I could think of was that I must really love my brother if I'm going to endure this seating arrangement all the way to Italy. I just popped my earphones in and looked out the window as we took off. I couldn't wait to go out there and find him. I had to make sure he was okay. He's my little brother.


	6. Incompetent Associates

Thank you for the review! This is really short, but enjoy!

Capitolo 6

Magnificent, barely described the view from the balcony that overlooked the water. It was a top level riser. The entire city could be seen. The perfect place for a hawk to have an edge on the population that scrambled about below running from place to place. Sounds floating up in the air were so much more than a mix of traffic, people, and music; it was the definition of Italy. It could only make a native feel like home.

The native Italian nursed the cup of burning tea while taking in the view. The air wasn't stuffy, even though the heat had increased. Only a slight breeze rolled through ruffling the newspaper sprawled across the little table. The sun had just risen not too long ago, waking the slumbering town. It peaked through the light clouds, allowing the Italian to view every nook and cranny below him.

Pleasant was too simple of a word to describe the emotions felt. Content is a more encompassing description. There were no more worries for the rest of the day, so the problem-free philosophy would be ringing true. He was exalted.

A burden had been weighing on his shoulders most recently. With no desire to get emotionally worked up, he focused on other things in the world. The day was fresh and so much could be accomplished. First the paper needed to be read. Then, check online for recent and important articles. Run some errands, take care of business, and finish reading the book of the week.

Lost in thoughts and dreams, a knock on the terrace door continued for quite some time until it was acknowledged. The man resituated himself and flattened his collar before asking, "Chi è?" _(Who is it?)_

A rough, "It's me sir," was the reply.

"Come." The terrace door opened to a burly man who was elegantly dressed with a concealed weapon at his side. He faced the seated man glancing over the paper. "What do you believe the weather will be like today?"

"I hope that it will be pleasing overall, sir."

"Very well, I believe it will be."

"Have you heard anything from Louisa?"

"No, sir I have not. She is apparently still unavailable."

"Of course she is, always unreachable when needed to be reached."

"Yes that does seem to happen regularly."

"I know, I just said that. Now, why are you here?"

"It's about the boy sir."

"The boy?"

"Yes, the blond one. I believe his name is …"

"Don't say it!" the man quickly cut his associate off. "Well what is it?"

"Apparently sir, they did not dispose of the boy correctly."

"WHAT?"

"Sorry sir, I thought they handled it."

"Well, apparently not. You will never use these despicable associates again, correct?"

"Yes sir. I mean of course sir. I will never ask of their assistance again."

"Very well, now, how did this happen?"

"Someone took him before we could return. He's not at any hospital or the embassy."

"I can only assume you are able to rectify this situation Simon."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, well then good day."

"Sir…"

"I said good day!" the man said fiercely, trying to keep his anger in check. This was not going to ruin his perfect day.


End file.
